


Best Served Cold

by kscho



Series: Danielle Cousland of Highever [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: But Not Much, Carver deserves to be happy okay?, F/M, I had fun writing this, Smut, lil bit of plot, really it's just smut, too much fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 09:52:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16808302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kscho/pseuds/kscho
Summary: Warden-Commander Danielle Cousland races through hell and high water to Kirkwall to find the man she loves, Warden Carver Hawke, after he is captured on patrol. With the Champion's help, they find that the trouble runs deeper than just a mere kidnapping.





	Best Served Cold

Danielle Cousland slammed the young templar against a stone column in the Gallows, nearly snarling in his face. “Keran. That _is_ your name, isn’t it?”

“Y-yes!” he squeaked, terror stricken across his face. He was quite literally shaking in his plate armor. _Some templar_ , she thought.

“My name is Danielle Cousland, sister to Teyrn Fergus Cousland. I am the Warden-Commander of Ferelden. You might know me as the Hero of Ferelden.” She glared sharply at him, hoping every ounce of fury was portraying in her stormy grey eyes. “I am only going to ask you this _once_. Where is Warden Carver Hawke?”

“Warden-Commander?”

Dany and Keran turned their heads to see Garrett Hawke hurrying up with Varric, Isabela, and Merrill in tow. Dany shot them a devilish smirk. “Good to see you, Champion!” she said. “If you need to talk, I’ll be with you in one moment. _After_ I finish making this little templar _piss himself!_ ” To prove her point, she slammed the man again, ignoring his wince of pain. “Are you going to make me ask again, Keran?!?”

“No!” he choked out.

“Will someone please explain what’s going on before the dear Warden-Commander murders this poor boy?” Varric drawled sarcastically.

“Go ahead, Keran,” Dany seethed. “Go ahead and tell Hawke, _the Champion of Kirkwall_ , what you and your pack of wolves have done.” At her hinting, Hawke glared daggers at the man, his hand twitching towards his staff slung across his back.

“Didn’t I save your life?” Hawke asked.

“You did,” Keran gasped. “Believe me, I still dream about those blood mages. I don’t know where I’d be without you.” His eyes darted between the Champion and the Warden-Commander. “I’d never have let them kidnap anyone I knew was one of yours.”

“What are you talking about?”

“They said someone was spying, we needed leverage, someone they cared about. As a hostage.”

With a strained yell, Dany hoisted the man up, armor and all, against the column. She heard the collective gasp of Hawke and the others. Dany loved to surprise others with her raw strength, but she was too blinded by white hot rage to bother basking in it. “So you’ve gone and decided to nick one of my Wardens, the man I happen to love-” She threw Keran down on the flagstones as hard as she could. “-who also happens to be the Champion’s brother?”

Before she could bully him further, Hawke’s boot came down on the man’s breastplate, right over the flaming sword of the Order. “You bastards kidnapped my brother!” he shouted. Dany could feel the thrum of magical energy already pulsing from him, and felt her mage blood following quickly after it, answering the call.

“We weren’t going to hurt him!” Keran wheezed. “Just make sure you left us alone. Do you understand? Thrask says Meredith will cause open war with the mages if she stays in charge. We have to take her down!”

Dany let out a bark of bitter laughter. “Is this whole thing to oust the Knight-Commander?”

“She needs to go! Don’t you see? We need a real viscount, and templars who protect mages, not massacre them. Just look what Thrask accomplished! Mages and templars, working together. Isn’t that what we want?”

Isabela tapped her chin with a slender finger. “Let’s see here… _You’re_ trying to convince the _Champion of Kirkwall and the Warden-Commander of Ferelden_ that kidnapping Carver, a man they both care about, is a good thing? That the whole ‘teamwork’ idea just wipes out the red in the ledger? Brilliant.”

“I agree,” Dany and Hawke snarled in unison. Hawke removed his boot and allowed Keran to get to his feet, albeit shakily. “I thought you would be the last person to join a conspiracy of apostate mages,” the Champion grumbled.

“They aren’t apostates,” Keran argued. “They _want_ the Circle. They want it to work like it’s supposed to, to protect them. The mages aren’t the problem. Meredith is. The Knight-Commander needs to go, that’s what Thrask says. Without her, we have a chance at peace.”

Dany pulled Hawke aside by his shoulder. “This is _your_ family, Garrett,” she said, quiet enough so that the others wouldn’t hear her. “I don’t know what you plan to do, but I’m going after Carver. What you do with Keran isn’t my concern.” She noticed a few tendrils of cold licking her fingers and quickly let go of his shoulder. In all her years as Warden-Commander, never has she wanted to let go so passionately, with such fire and ice that it might obliterate her soul. For the moment, all she cared about was being in the arms of the man she loved again.

Hawke had turned to Keran, an icy inferno blazing behind his bright blue eyes. “You went too far when you targeted my _family_ ,” he growled. Keran seemed to notice his murderous look and hear the pure fury behind Hawke’s words. He stumbled back, hand grasping at the hilt of his sword. Dany whipped her hand out and froze it, watching as he struggled to pull the sword free of its scabbard.

“I had nothing to do with it!” Keran shouted, still taking steps back as the Champion advanced slowly. “I swear! You can still save your brother! The Wounded Coast--we use the ruins there as a base. That’s where they were going!”

“And yet you could have done everything to stop it,” Hawke said lowly. “There’s always a choice, Keran.” In a flash, he had drawn his dagger and cut Keran’s throat, blood spilling down his breastplate, over the flaming sword and dripping to the flagstones. Dany didn’t even gasp. As much as she wanted to kill the man, she didn’t think she could’ve done it. Luckily, it seemed, she hadn’t needed to.

Clearing her throat, she spoke up. “I’ve got a few Wardens standing by near the gates, if you’d like to get going.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Hawke snarked sourly, wiping his blade on Keran’s templar cloak.

\---

“Orders, Warden-Commander?” Sigrun asked, resting one of her twin axes on her shoulder. “Ancestors, you look ready to snap a bronto’s neck!”

“You’re not far off,” she joked. “Warden Carver is being held at some ruins along the Wounded Coast. The Champion and a few of his companions are right behind me. We’re to meet up with them a mile before the ruins. Understood?” Her four Wardens nodded, some looking happy they were going to fight something other than darkspawn for a change.

They met a few apostates along the way, mages who thought it was better to talk with magic first rather than words. Deciding to save her mana, Dany charged in with Sigrun, providing defense for her quick, offensive attacks. Hawke caught up quickly, tossing a fireball over one of her Wardens’ shoulders to announce his arrival. Dany nodded to him and they continued. It wasn’t long before someone showed their face, and Dany didn’t like him one bit.

“Well, here you are,” the man said, walking with more swagger than Dany cared to witness. “You’ve been sticking your nose in every problem in Kirkwall since you stumbled off the boat.”

“Samson,” Hawke huffed. “Look, I really don’t have the attitude for your stupid fucking voice. Are the mages here using blood magic?”

Samson chuckled. “It always comes down to that, don’t it? They claim innocence, demand equality, but back them into a corner and they got options we don’t. Haven’t found a mage yet who won’t take it.”

“Know each other, I take it?” Dany noted.

“Oh, yes, Samson’s an _upstanding_ citizen begging coins to get his next flask of lyrium.”

Samson chuckled again. “It’s a long time since anyone could get under my skin with that. I know what I am. So it shouldn’t surprise you to see me here, right? One more blockhead movement that’s gonna keep me in the gutter. I just wanted to see Meredith out on her ass, like she did to me.”

Hawke shifted his weight, scowling suspiciously. “It sounds like you’ve had a change of heart,” he snarked.

“I’d hoped with Meredith gone, I could take up the shield again. But maybe she was right...give them a hint of freedom, mages go bad.”

“You’re telling the wrong fucking people,” Dany snapped, folding her arms over her chest. “We’re wasting time on this addict, Hawke.”

“Quite right, Warden-Commander,” he agreed, stepping past Samson.

Their company continued their little trek, all a little more tense, sensing the coming battle. And there would be one, no doubt. Blood mages and rebelling templars didn’t exactly make the best of cocktails. And now two raging Thedas legends were about to be thrown into it. Or, more accurately, they were throwing _themselves_ into it. Sigrun, bless her, spotted them first. They all advanced slowly toward their adversaries. A templar with auburn hair and a matching beard strode out to meet them at the edge of the little circle of ruins.

“I suppose it was too much to hope that you wouldn’t have come here,” he said to Hawke carefully. He eyed up Dany. “And I have to admit, I _never_ imagined the Warden-Commander herself would come, much less any Warden, for that matter.” He shook his head. “Though I can’t understand why you side with Meredith now. You showed me we can stand up to her. When I realized you had risked your life lying to protect those mages… _Please_ , Champion. I have nothing but respect for you. It’s Meredith we must see gone.”

“Then release my fucking brother,” Hawke said evenly.

Thrask gave a single nod. He turned to one of the apostates, a woman with tattoos on her face. “Let the hostage go.”

“No!” she exclaimed, standing tall. “The boy dies. Then the Champion. Then the Warden-Commander.” Dany immediately drew her sword, her Wardens following suit.

“Stand down, Grace!” Thrask ordered.

Merrill spoke up. “Grace, do you really want to do this?” she asked. “After everything we’ve done for you?”

“We will not kill an innocent to achieve our ends. It gains us nothing to become Meredith.”

“Meredith!” Grace spat. “What do I care for Meredith? I’m here for the Champion!”

“You hurt my brother, you die,” Hawke warned her.

“Decimus was right! There is now way for a mage to live by the Chantry’s laws.” She pointed at Hawke. “You killed the best man I ever met. But I learned all he had to teach. Alain, kill the hostage!”

A young mage looked at Carver’s body uncertainly. “I-I don’t know, Grace…” he murmured. Dany’s muscles itched to jump into the firefight that was surely to unfold. “This isn’t right, Grace. The Champion tried to help us.”

“Don’t defy me, boy!” Grace shouted, backhanding the man. “Without me, you’d be nothing. If you’re too squeamish, I’ll do it myself!”

“Wardens!” Dany called. They responded with their unisoned war cry, startling templars and mages alike. Thrask held an arm out and tried to say something, but Grace whirled her staff and impaled him on the blade at the end, spilling blood in the dusty sand.

Chaos was unleashed. Every templar drew their blade, every mage held their staff aloft. The clanging of metal on metal mixed with the colorful bolts of magic as the fight began. Her Wardens went to work, fighting together as perfectly as she had seen them do many times. Against darkspawn, Dany calculated every kill they made could’ve been done in half the time. Darkspawn were easy to predict, once you got in their heads a bit. People were the most unpredictable adversaries. Dany dodged a sword and hammered her sword against a shield, her cries of effort bursting from her lungs. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hawke fighting. He wielded his staff as if it were an extension of his own body. It moved so fast, she could barely tell which end was which. Magic of all kinds exploded from the red stone at the top, sending enemies flying or enveloping them in flames or encasing them in ice.

A screeching shriek ripped through the air, turning Dany’s attention away from her felled enemy. The mage, Grace, had fallen, but it seemed she wasn’t done with the Champion. Her body erupted into flames, and a Pride demon crawled out of the ground on which she died. Dany felt herself pale, but she was still as determined as before. Her and Hawke looked at each other, both nodding. They ran to the front of it, bracing themselves when it roared at them. Dany sliced her sword at a massive clawed hand that had come to scoop her up. The demon screamed and reared back, clutching its injured hand.

“Go low, Dany!” Hawke shouted, beginning a powerful spell.

She nodded, rushing the demon and sliding between its legs on her knees, kicking up dirt as she slashed at it. It screamed again. Dany rolled away, now behind it. She tossed her sword down and called forth her own, hardly used magic, conjuring a whip made of sparking red magic. She shouted as she lashed it out. It curled around the demon’s neck and connected with her other hand. She grit her teeth and pulled, willing the earth beneath her feet to curl up her boots and hold her in place. The demon screeched and fell to its knees. Dany heard Hawke shout, louder than the madness around them, and then a hole the size of a shield blasted through its torso with such force that it shook the ruins. Dany let her magic go, panting and feeling the burning sensation in her muscles. She picked up her sword and rushed to help aid in clearing up the remaining enemies.

In her opinion, she felt the fight had ended far too early. With the Wardens, things were never easy, and the fights never ended earlier than planned. Hawke was pacing back and forth in front of Alain, fury still clear in his face. Dany walked up to him and squeezed his shoulder once, a wordless note that he should calm down, that they had saved Carver. He let out a sigh and picked Alain up off the ground.

“Talk,” he commanded.

Alain, smartly, didn’t meet the Champion’s eyes. “I knew she was still alive, but I didn’t know Thrask was working for her. When I saw her today, it brought everything back, everything I saw Decimus do.” He took a deep breath. “I...I’m sorry. Grace used blood magic to hold him. There’s no other way to wake him up.”

“Tread carefully, kid,” Varric warned him, uncharacteristically hostile.

Alain nodded and drew a knife, making a slim cut down the middle of his palm. The blood turned to red mist, quickly swirling around Carver, and within seconds he was waking up. Suddenly, he shot to his feet, holding a hand out in front of him as he coughed. “Get out of my-!” Carver shook his head, looking around. “What? Where am I?”

Dany practically launched herself at him, unable to restrain herself. Their plates clanged together, but she held on tightly. “Kirkwall,” she said, her voice muffled in his neck. “I thought you were better than a few lousy templars!” She pulled back, smiling, unable to stop the few tears that had started to fall.

Seeing her face seemed to calm Carver. He smiled back and thumbed the tears away. “In my defense, I had no reason to think they’d turn on me, Commander.” He pulled her against him again, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Thank you, Garrett,” he said over her shoulder. “It seems I am again in your debt.” Dany giggled quietly. “Miss me?”

“Of course!” Hawke exclaimed sarcastically. “I miss hearing your endless snoring just on the other side of the room! It’s odd not waking up in the middle of the night to piss and thinking there’s an animal killing itself horrifically.”

“It’s no better right next to him, I’ll admit that much,” Dany chimed in, ignoring her own self-induced blush. Hawke burst out laughing, and the light seemed to be coming back to his eyes.

\---

Finally unarmored, Dany jumped back into Carver's arms, locking her legs around his waist and burying her face in his neck with a squeal. He stumbled back, his arms coming to wrap around her. “Do you have any fucking idea how worried I was?” she mumbled. “I thought you were dead. Or worse, somewhere I couldn't scold you.”

Carver chuckled, tucking his head against her. “Ah, I could never get very far on my own, now could I? You'd just drag me back to Amaranthine by my ear.”

“Bottom lip, more likely, but close.” They shared a chuckle. Everything was back to the way it was supposed to be. She had sent the remaining Wardens back home, promising to follow soon enough. Hawke had invited her and Carver to spend the night at his estate, and Dany had accepted before Carver could decline. There was the promise of a massive dinner with _everyone_ and trailed by a game of Wicked Grace. Smiling, Dany turned her head and kissed his jaw. “I love you.”

“And I, you. Come on, then, otherwise my brother will send someone if we take too long.” Her grip only tightened. “Dany… I haven't had a bath in quite a long time.”

“Do I look like I mind?”

“I only see your back, Dany.”

“Does my back seem to mind?”

“Am I gonna have to take off your clothes for you?”

Dany giggled and wriggled in his arms. “Maybe…” she sang. “If you're offering.” She let her legs down and took a tiny step back, smiling coyly at him. He smirked at her, curling his fingers through a few tendrils of hair that had escaped her complicated braid. He gently turned her around and began slipping the pins free. The room was startlingly quiet as he undid her hair tie and snaked his fingers through her dark locks. Turning back around, Dany kept up her cozy look as his hands pulled at the laces of her shirt, revealing her cleavage. Dany kept her eyes on Carver, studying the tiny changes in his expression. His eyes lingered on every bare patch of skin he exposed. The corners of his lips twitched whenever his fingers grazed that same skin.

“You're enjoying yourself,” she noted quietly.

“Very much so, yes.”

With the laces undone, her shirt slipped over her breasts and down to the ground. Dany stepped out of it and kicked it away. As much as she wanted to take _his_ clothes off, she wanted to see him take himself apart as he took off her clothes. He moved to her pants, unbundling her belt and pulling it free, letting it drop. A single giggle escaped as he tugged a little more insistently at the laces of her pants, suddenly crouching as he yanked them down her legs. Dany gasped as his mouth explored her hard stomach and thick thighs. His hands skimmed up the back of her legs, gripping the flesh and muscled tightly.

“I missed you,” he murmured against her skin.

“Don’t stop,” she breathed, placing her hands in his hair to steady herself.

“Never.”

Carver stood suddenly, yanking her breastband and loose and discarding it carelessly, immediately dropping his head to wrap his lips around a freed breast. Dany cried out quietly before biting her bottom lip, her back arching against him. His hand kneaded her other breast thoroughly, drawing her nipple into a tight bud. Dany was trapped between his attention to his breasts and the heated throbbing between her legs. Her nails dug into his shoulders when he gave her nipple a sharp bite.

“Carver, please!” she cried, pulling at his shirt. He pulled away just long enough for her to toss it over his head and away. She hated being teased. She shoved him away, light enough not to knock him on his arse, but hard enough for him to get that she meant business. He smirked at her. He knew what he was doing, the bastard. She pounced, planting one hand on his chest, and the other on his shoulder to pull herself up to him, kissing him passionately. His hands squeezed the plump flesh of her arse, pushing her smalls down as best as he could with how much shorter she was compared to him. Dany backed him up to the bed, pushing him back on it when his legs bumped the frame. She shed her smalls quickly and mirrored Carver's cocky smirk as she moved to straddle his waist, grinding against his very obvious erection. He groaned into her mouth as she claimed his lips.

“Unless you want to be teased as you did to me,” she purred, trapping his earlobe between her teeth, grinning at the moan it drew from him, “I suggest, dear Warden, that you remove your trousers.”

“As my Warden-Commander--fuck…” Dany had drawn her tongue along the shell of his ear.

“I'd be glad to fuck you. But I'd rather _you_ fuck _me._ ” _That_ certainly broke through. He gripped her hips and _dragged_ her cunt against his confined cock, desperately moaning at the contact, Dany echoing it. “Will you please, Carver?” she asked breathlessly. “Fuck me till I can't walk straight? Fuck me through this mattress?”

“All of it...Maker, fuck!” Dany hopped off him, ripping his laces free and all but hauling his trousers down and off. His erection sprang free, already dripping with his arousal. She wedged her way between his legs, bending over and kissing his sternum. His hands skimmed up her sides but she tsked him and pulled them away.

“Hands on yourself, Warden,” she murmured, curling his fingers around his own cock. “You do this when I'm gone, yes?” She moved his hand up and down beneath her own, keeping the pace agonizingly slow for him.

“Maker, Dany…”

“ _Yes?”_ she reiterated.

He let out a gasp as she squeezed suddenly, urging his answer out. “Maker, fuck yes…”

Her hands left his and she climbed on the bed beside him. “I want you to make yourself come for me,” she stated confidently.

Carver's hand froze. For a second, Dany thought he would blush even redder than he already was and politely say no, that he'd rather bury his cock in her instead. But then his hand began to move again. Up and down is slow strokes, turning just a bit hear his head, thumb swiping over his slit, spreading his arousal down his cock. Dany could almost _feel_ her pupils widen. The scorching throb between her legs increased, but she was too enamored with Carver to touch herself. Carver's breath hitched when his other hand palmed his sac. Dany swore quietly, willing herself not to shove his hands aside and stroke him herself. She wanted to hear him begging for her touch, her mouth. Wanted to hear him shouting her name, crying out in his release.

“Tell me,” she said. “You're thinking about something, yes?”

“You, dammit,” he huffed, his eyes tightly shut in concentration.

“Oh?” She traced a finger down his chest, lingering around his nipples. He gasped quietly when she flicked one with her nail. “How so, I wonder. Am I sucking your cock? Are you fucking me from behind? Perhaps I'm on top and you're watching my tits bounce? Which is it?”

“I'm fu… I'm…” Carver growled in frustration. “Fuck...fucking you, Dany…” Dany bent over him, swirling her tongue around his nipple, worrying it slightly with her teeth. Carver growled again. “You...spread wide for me...and...fuck!” He tugged on his balls. Whether it was to pull him closer to release or postpone it, Dany wasn't equipped to know. Dany smirked, _biting_ his nipple. He swore roundly and sped up his strokes, his cock looking _impeccably_ hard.

“I'd _love_ for you to fuck me, Carver.”

That was it. Carver let out a roar as he came, hot spurts of his seed splashing on his hardened abdomen. Dany was there, mouth around his cock and catching the last vestments of his spend, working him through his orgasm. His hips moved with her head bobbing up and down his cock. When it finally became too much for him, he pulled on her hair gently and she slid him out of her mouth with a cheeky smile. But she wasn't done with her mischief. She moved up over his stomach where his spend was puddled, lapping her tongue across his skin. Carver carefully propped himself up on his elbows, moaning at the sight. Once he was all cleaned up, she crawled up and captured his lips again, knowing he could taste himself on her tongue and lips.

“I love-ah!” Carver's fingers had found their way to the juncture of her thighs, stroking her clit. “Fuck!”

“You enjoyed that, didn't you Commander?” Carver lowed, moving her over him. “Stroking myself to completion? Seeing my seed instead of feeling me fill you with it?” He gave her clit a light pinch, eliciting a sharp cry from her. “How often do _you_ touch yourself, I wonder?” He listened to Dany pant for a few moments. “Hmm? Care to enlighten me?”

Dany could hardly think, much less answer him. Carver's free hand slipped around her back, moving her to lay down so he could settle between her legs. She found his dark locks, threading them between her fingers perhaps a little too tightly. Her mouth parted wide as she felt the delicious drag of his tongue between her folds. She remembered be had asked her a question. “Mostly at...at night,” she breathed. “When you're...fuck...when you're not…” Her back arched toward the ceiling when he entered her with two fingers. Maker, she loved his fingers. Carver had rather large hands, with long enough fingers that had her calling out his name in no time. Their first night had gone somewhat similar to the path they were on now. Carver had nearly smashed a hole in the door of her office when she swallowed around him the first time. She had nearly toppled over him when he took her with his mouth, her back scratching that same door. The floor hadn't made the best surface for six. The desk had been only slightly better. The sofa served them better.

“Carver!” she cried as his fingers thrust in and out of her roughly, curling perfectly against that spot inside her she could never reach. Her back arched further into that exquisite bend, breasts heaving toward the ceiling. A few sparks of electricity jumped across her skin as she came, mouth blown open in a silent scream. She could feel herself pulsing around Carver's fingers, trying to draw him in further. He slowed his pace, drawing out her orgasm as long as he could before she began to drift back.

“You are _far_ more than I deserve,” Carver sighed, kissing her. Dany could taste her own slick on his tongue, less salty than his, but just as arousing. She kept her eyes closed, content to just revel in the feel of their tongues dancing. Carver shifted completely above her, keeping his weight on his forearm. Her hips automatically bucked when she felt his cock against her thigh. “Eager, love?” he chuckled. “Eager to be fucked, filled with my seed, screaming my name?”

“All of it, Carver, please!”

He chuckled again, lining them up, and hilting in one swift thrust. Dany cried out against him, nails digging into the firm muscles of his back. He gave her no time to adjust, setting a swift pace. She drew her knees up, hooking her heels against the small of his back, drawing him _deeper_ with every powerful thrust. On days like this, Carver fucked with the ferocity of a battering ram. Sometimes Dany was convinced he was trying to fuck _through_ her. Grey Wardens were built to endure, both in stamina and endurance of all kinds. Dany openly admitted to Carver that she _loved_ the little graces of pain, the bruising on her hips, the bites on her neck and breasts. More than anything Grey Wardens needed to _feel_ . Feel that they were, in fact, alive and breathing. Or alive and fucking. Dany loved to _feel_. Feel his cock drive into her, feel the heat of his breath against her skin, feel the thundering edge of release just around the next flawless thrust.

And there it was. She was clenching around him hard enough to see stars, crying out his name. His thumb swiped against her clit, making her all but sob. His thrusts turned gentle, more focused on the _strike_ rather than speed. Dany spasmed around him, the overstimulation too much, but _delightfully_ too much. Once she relaxed, Carver pulled out suddenly, roughly adjusting her to hands and knees. Dany simply let her front fall in the covers and her legs spread wide.

“Is the Warden-Commander ready to be fucked?”

She could feel her cunt clench in anticipation. “Please,” was all she could get out before he was pressing back into her with a breathy curse. Her fingers curled tightly around the covers, mouth open in pure pleasure. Every angle had its perks, but she liked this one best. To let Carver ride her, _fuck_ her senseless in any way he wanted, fingers driving bruises into her skin. Let him pull her, use her, _snap_ against her like a whip. _Fuck_ , she loved it! Lived for it! The room smelled of sex, the musky, heady scent that was ever so distinctive. Even the sheets seemed to have the smell woven into them already.

“Holy Maker...fuck! Fucking...shit!”

Had she not been, at that moment, blown away by a shattering orgasm, Dany might have laughed. Her vision went white, every muscle in her body pulling taught with pleasure. She sobbed into the sheets, hot tears soaking through them. A strangled sound came from Carver before he _slammed_ into her once more. She could feel the searing heat from the flood of his spend. He folded against her back, breathing heavy. Dany drifted back down, her own breathing leveling out, but her heart continuing its chugging thud in her chest. She could feel Carver's as well, thumping between their sweaty bodies. Humming with contentment, she waited until Carver joined her back in bed, breathing one final sigh before pulling out and nearly collapsing next to her. She curled on her side, eyes closed and breathing evenly. She reached out her hand, finding his sweaty chest and drumming her fingers against his skin.

“Love you,” she mumbled.

Carver turned on his side and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her sweetly. He had the best post-sex kisses reserved for her, always. “Love you, too,” he breathed, kissing the tip of her nose. She could feel his smile against her skin. “I think we might be late for dinner later.”

“Very late,” she agreed, already being tugged into the Fade.

\---

There was a harsh round of knocking on the door before Dany heard it be thrown open with Hawke's voice following it. “Andraste's satin shoes, Carver, are you ever-Maker's breath!” Dany whined in protest as the room was filled with his booming laughter, burying her face in her pillow. She felt Carver turn on his opposite side.

“ _Out_ , Garrett,” he growled. The door slammed shut again, but they could still hear Hawke's cackling laughter as it retreated down the hall. Dany scooted up flush against Carver and sighed, planting a tiny kiss between his shoulders and curling her arm around his waist. “We might be a little late,” he mumbled.

“Oh well,” she replied sleepily, yawning. “Go jump in the bath first, I'm gonna lay here a bit longer.”

He snickered. “You don’t wanna join me?”

“We might be very, _very_ late if I join you. Now get.” She turned over and tucked the blankets over her shoulders.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't include all of the scripted dialogue from Best Served Cold because I was too eager to get to the smut, tbh. There might be a chapter of fluff added after this but I haven't decided yet. Also, I don't care how innocent Keran thinks he is, he's dead to me <3


End file.
